Stockholm Syndrome
by Jikoken'o
Summary: Bass kidnaps Roll for one of Wily's cliché plots, but when they start to develop a friendship, things become complicated. Bass x Roll
1. Intrigue

_Opening comments:  
Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Jikoken'o. You can call me Jiko for short. :) I've decided to try my hand at fanfiction._

_I considered calling Bass by his Japanese name, Forte, simply to prevent me from constantly misreading 'Bass' as a fish, but I guess I'll just stick to his english name..._

* * *

Bass stared skeptically at his creator. Wily _was_ getting up in his years, and it was a very real possibility that extended periods of time exposed to an array of unnatural electronic waves had some kind of adverse effect upon the mad scientist.

"Really? That's the best a 'genius' like you can come up with?" Bass did not hesitate to coat the word 'genius' with some venom; he didn't exactly respect Wily. The sarcasm seemed to be lost on the old man, however, as Wily just cackled and ranted on about how infallible his plan was this time.

"It's brilliant! Mega Man's sister is so weak and vulnerable, after all, and I'll bet he's got more of an attachment to her than Light. I don't know why I didn't think of kidnapping Roll sooner."

Air Man, who, in the summer heat, had been given the humiliating position as Wily's window fan, meekly offered, "But, sir, I believe you _have_ tried kidnapping her b—"

"SILENCE, FOOL! And turn yourself up to 3, I'm melting over here."

"Yes, sir..."

With no sympathy for Air's circumstances, Bass just continued to stare with a glazed expression. "And, since you dragged me in here, I suppose you expect _me_ to kidnap the Blue Idiot's sister?"

"Yes. With Roll in our territory, Mega Man will be forced to come for her... But this time, I'll threaten to deactivate Roll, which will render him useless. Then I will have all of my robots attack him together! Mega Man will be overwhelmed and ultimately defeated. And I'm sure that kidnapping Roll will be an easy task for a powerful robot such as yourself." Wily was not one to openly compliment his 'children', but he knew that stroking Bass' massive ego a little bit would be enough to jump-start the cocky bot into action.

"But of course it will. Expect me back in no more than half an hour." With that said, Bass was gone faster than Quick Man. Wily chuckled at how easily manipulated Bass was.

* * *

True to his word, Bass kicked open the backdoor of Wily's base in exactly 25 minutes with a flailing, screaming girl in his arms. Her tears and threats of "Rock will never forgive you!" had no impact on Bass. He planted her feet on the ground in front of Wily, but kept a strong grip around her arms and waist to keep her from trying to attack or run away. She did take a couple of swings at Wily's face with her legs, but apparently being in a short dress limited her range of motion.

"Wonderful! Good work, Bass, I knew you could do it." The doctor smiled a crooked, wicked smile.

Bass shrugged impassively. "Any idiot could have kidnapped this girl. She was in the front yard, completely alone. I didn't see Light or Mega Dweeb anywhere."

"Oh, really?" Wily looked Roll up and down, just to make sure she didn't have a buster hiding anywhere. Roll made an ugly face in return.

"If this is another one of your stupid plans to lure Rock here, then you have bad timing," she stated impudently, "because he and Dr. Light left town for an electronics convention and won't be home for a week or so. I stayed home to catch up on laundry, which Bass very rudely interrupted..." Apparently she was more indignant at having her chores intruded upon than being kidnapped.

"..."

"..."

Bass and Wily exchanged surprised expressions.

"Are... are you freakin' _serious_?" Bass groaned.

"Lovely. Just lovely." Wily's palm flew up to his forehead as he sighed heavily and threw himself into his office chair. He wasn't expecting such a wrench to be thrown into his plan.

"_Now_ what are we going to do, GENIUS?" Bass spat angrily, and unintentionally tightening his grip on Roll in the process. When she started to whimper, he relaxed a bit and mumbled a small apology.

"Well, we can't just let her go or my plan will be ruined. She'll be too hard to catch again if she knows. I suppose if it's only a week, we could keep her locked here and just wait for Light and Mega Man to come back." Wily mulled over this option calculatingly and nodded his head; it didn't seem like it'd be too difficult. "You watch over her Bass, it's your fault we're in this mess anyway."

Bass began to yell and squish poor Roll again. "WHAT ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT, YOU OLD GEEZER?! THIS WAS YOUR PLAN! I OUGHTA SLUG YOU!!"

"B-Bass..." Roll uttered with what little air hadn't been squeezed out of her lungs. "You're bruising me..."

"Ah, oops." He loosened up again. "Screw it, whatever. I'll take care of the girl for the time being, but I wanna be the first to knock Mega Man's brains loose when he comes to save his damsel in distress."

With his (theoretical, what with being a robot) blood even hotter than the blazing sun outside and steam emanating from his head, Bass carried Roll off to the Robot Masters' residential area of Wily's hideout, leaving Wily behind to flesh out his demented (and partially retarded) plot.

* * *

Now permitted to walk on her own two feet (the hideout was all locked up with no escapes and a _lot_ of Wily's robots around, so she had no motivation to run), Roll followed Bass down a long hallway. The place looked more like a storage warehouse than a home; there was no decoration, photos, or furniture outside of the bare basics... Even the floor was a cold, impersonal metal. Their footsteps echoed against it in a lonely, barren sort of way. There were doors on each side of the hallway, each labeled with the DWN numbers of the room's residents.

Near the end of the hall, Bass stopped shortly in front of one of the doors. He stopped so suddenly that Roll, who had been curiously reading all of the labels, walked right into him. "Ow..."

Bass just stood like a pole, lazily glancing down at his prisoner. He advised halfheartedly, "Be more careful," and unlocked the door.

When it clicked open, Bass tugged the hesitant Roll inside and locked the door behind them. Little alarms went off in the girl's brain, and she began to look around worriedly, like a helpless rabbit walking into the lion's den. The room looked just as basic and emotionless as the rest of the 'house'. A bed (with no blankets or sheets), a shoddy lamp, and a closet. Roll wondered briefly about what was in the closet, but she was more concerned with her present situation.

"Um..." She was almost too afraid to ask. "Wh-what are you going to do...?"

Bass was completely oblivious to what was going through Roll's mind and answered dully, "Since apparently I'm a baby-sitter bot now, you have to stay with me. I don't know why the old idiot doesn't get one of his other useless robots to watch over you, though... I've got better things to do..."

For some silly reason, Roll felt guilty for being thought of as an inconvenience. (Whether it was her polite nature or sincere sympathy for the irritable robot, Roll wasn't sure.) "I... uh, I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize, it's not like you asked to be kidnapped. This is Wily's fault. I don't know why that kook didn't think to scout things out first, but he's getting old and stupid." Feeling quite done with talking about his main source of irritation, Bass lowered himself onto the bed and laid on his back. Roll lingered awkwardly by the doorway with a million different question flooding into her mind all at once. Soaking in the silence for a moment, she carefully picked her first inquiry.

"So... what am I going to do all week...?" Roll feared that the answer was 'nothing'. Roll was a very task-oriented robot; she gained the most satisfaction from a job well done. And it was impossible to do a job well if there was no job at all.

"I don't know... I suppose you'll just have to tag along with me so that I can keep an eye on you." It was obvious that Bass wasn't as interested in the details as Roll was. He looked more interested in the patterns on the ceiling. But Roll persisted, wringing her hands nervously all the while.

"What... what about sleeping? Do I have to sleep in the same room as you...?"

"I can't watch you if you're in another room," he replied in a very matter-of-fact tone. His cool demeanor only unnerved Roll further. Her eyes continued to grow wider, and she was currently shuffling back and forth on her feet, itching to move somewhere but with no place to go. The image it created looked more like something to the effect of dancing than fidgetiness, however, and had Bass been looking in her direction, he probably would have laughed.

"B-but... but I..." The sentence died on her lips and the room fell silent again.

It seemed to Roll that Bass did not speak body language, nor pick up on tone of voice. He remained as apathetic as he had been when he lugged her into Wily's room in the first place (treating her, she remembered with a little bit of resentment, like a backpack or some other unwieldy package). Outside of anger against his 'father', Roll wondered if Bass was even capable of feeling anything at all. Such a train of thought led her to consider Bass's objectives and motives. Was his sole purpose of design to fight? Did he actually truly want that for himself, or was he just doing his job? Did he even 'want' anything at all? Roll wasn't sure, but with these new ideas taking shape, she cast a quiet, solemn glance at her kidnapper. A sudden desire to answer these rhetorical questions formed in her fickle, girlish mind. After all, he felt like a different being in this domestic setting; she had seen him fight with her brother before, but that Bass and this Bass seemed like different people. Was it just a mask, or were there more facets to him than met the casual viewer's eye?

More and more questioned developed, and Roll found pondering over them to be a good way to pass the rest of the uneventful evening.

* * *

_Closing comments:  
Ah, it's been a while since I've written something. It's a little bit stiff, but I hope that you enjoyed it anyway. I'm not aiming to be too articulate or poetic, I just wanted an excuse to write about these two. (chuckle) Please be sure to review, I want to know what you all thought of this! :)_


	2. Concern

_Opening comments:  
Thank you kindly for the reviews. :) They make writing this so much fun!_

* * *

After a long, sleepless night (as things were, she preferred staying up all night over sharing a bed with an enemy, and rightfully so), Roll drowsily followed Bass out to the hallway. When the door clicked open, the hall was, to her surprise, teeming with movement and chatter. All of the Robot Masters were filing out of their rooms in neat, organized lines, reminding Roll of an ant colony. Though tired, she watched through wide, curious eyes as robots continued to flow out of the rooms and down the hall. She strained to pick up on some of the conversations, but in all the activity, she had trouble distinguishing more than a few, short clips.

"—so I tried to convince him that a Maid Man was a good idea, but he just—"

"—right into the spikes! It left a nasty mark for weeks—"

"—bright idea it was to name a robot 'Slash Man', anyway? I mean, really—"

"—with drill hands isn't exactly a walk in the park, though sometimes I wonder if—"

Roll looked up at Bass. His expression was blank and disinterested, so she inferred that this was a regular morning ritual. Making their way down the long, narrow corridor was taking a while with all the crowding and pushing. Roll just kept her arms pressed to her sides and tried to look like she was a part of this organized chaos, but her efforts to go unnoticed failed when she stumbled over her half-asleep feet and fell against the back of the Robot Master in front of her...

"What the...?? Who is that?" Roll suddenly felt very small when the towering, intimidating robot whipped around with a bewildered expression. She recognized him as Metal Man, one of Wily's older creations. His paint had gained quite a few scuffs and dents since their last encounter, and he had lost a lot of his original luster, but he still looked just as imposing as ever. "W-wait just a second... Aren't you Mega Man's sister...?!"

The blonde girl flinched as his voice rose in volume, like he was making an announcement to the whole hall. A large percentage of the crowd froze and looked in Metal's direction, only causing the sinking feeling in Roll's gut to sink faster. She looked up at Bass again, this time more helplessly, and he returned her gaze for a brief moment. His face betrayed a rare display of emotion, slight discomfort tugging the corners of his lips down, but they both stood wordlessly, waiting to see how the scene was going to play out.

"What's going on, Bass? Is she with you...?" Metal asked suspiciously as Roll hid behind Bass, using him like a shield.

Bass quickly wiped emotion off and donned an aloof attitude. "The doctor has me watching her for now. We're waiting for DRN. 001 to come for her."

What little of Metal's face that wasn't obscured by his mask scrunched up in perplexity, softened in consideration, and relaxed in realization. He bent over and came within inches of Roll. She shrank back out of fear, but tried to hold still, also out of fear. Metal's red, narrow eyes stared intensely at her, scrutinizing her, and Roll felt like he was reading her mind. She absently tried to empty herself of any thoughts that could potentially offend the hot-blooded Robot Master. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bass was watching carefully, and Roll could only hope that he'd mediate if things turned bad.

"Now... what was your name again?" Metal finally spoke, though he didn't move. Roll didn't detect any aggression in his voice, so she felt, if only by a small fraction, less terrified to respond. However, all of the other staring, gaping robots in the hallway made her feel like a criminal under questioning.

"R-Roll... I'm Roll..." she mumbled politely, and added as an afterthought, "S-sir."

Metal stood up straight and roared loudly. The sheer volume of his laughter compelled his comrades to laugh along. Roll kept shooting distressed expressions towards Bass, hoping he'd intervene at some point, but to her frustration, he kept watching mutely.

"Well," Metal declared, his voice still quivering with laughter. "Well, men, it seems we have a first in our lair! A girl robot!"

Someone in the back shouted, "She's just a child, Metal, that's no fun!", and the group boomed again with noise, mostly more laughter. Roll immediately anticipated that she wouldn't like where this was going.

True to his name, Shadow Man seemingly materialized out of the shadows and grabbed Roll's shoulders. She let out a small shriek.

"Hmhmhm." He chuckled in a much more quiet, reserved manner, compared to Metal. But in some ways, his calmness was more frightening to Roll. "Hello, little girl, would you like to go train with us? We like having new playmates..."

Gemini Man stepped forward, carefully keeping his chin parallel to the ground, holding his shoulders back, and puffing his chest out. You could almost see the imaginary books on his head. He radiated a very self-important, self-admiring air that was not reciprocated by his partners, like a queen who was the only one who was aware that she was a queen.

"Now, now, brothers, that's no way to treat a lady..." With a gaudy flourish, he gripped one of Roll's hands between his own. "These ruffians and myself are going to do some exercises to freshen our skills, and I'm sure you'd be more than _honored_ to accompany us and witness my amazing power. What do you say, my dear?"

Roll gazed dumbly at Gemini. "U-um... if it means all the same to you, I'd rather stay with Bass..." It wasn't like she received any kind of comfort from Bass, but so far, he seemed calm enough, and she wasn't sure how safe it was to mingle with robots who probably held long, hardened grudges against her brother. At least Bass was too recent to be old and bitter yet.

"Oho, ssso she wantsss to ssstay with Bassss, huh?" Snake Man hissed teasingly from where ever in the throng he was. "I haven't a clue why, though, he'sss ssso cranky..."

Bass spoke at last. "Wily specifically designated me to keep an on her, and I intend to do just that. Now get out of my way, you idiots." He grabbed Roll's arm and tugged her away from Metal, Shadow, and Gemini. She obediently followed him down the hall.

Any robots who had the misfortune of being in his way either scampered off to the sides or were rudely shoved.

* * *

At last, they were safely away from the crowd. Roll let out a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding. "Thank you for getting me out of there... That was scary..."

Bass just huffed and kept walking. Roll had to trot a bit to match his pace. "I wasn't trying to help you. Those idiots were just taking to long to move out of the way, and I was getting annoyed."

"Oh..." A bit taken aback by his ungracious 'you're welcome', Roll fell silent for a moment before making an effort to speak again. She sensed anger, and she wondered why exactly Bass was so worked up over the small delay; but for now, directing his attention away from the mishap seemed the wisest choice. "...So, um, where are we going?"

"Over to the old man's 'office'. He wants you for something, apparently."

Roll paused, processed this sentence, and made a face. Suddenly, being harassed by dozens of Wily robots sounded more fun.


	3. Admiration

_Opening comments:  
Apologies for the delayed chapter. My work is busy._

* * *

Roll followed Bass into Wily's computer room, and felt instinctive fear when the old man turned his chair towards them.

"Ah, Roll, Bass," he stated in an almost greeting manner; he seemed relaxed, so Roll relaxed a little bit, too. "Good timing. Listen up, Roll. If we have to be keeping an eye on you all week, don't think you're getting a free ride. So, go make me breakfast."

The statement caught Roll quite off guard. She was almost expecting him to lock her up in a prison cell, or put her to hard manual labor. A command as innocent as 'make me breakfast' almost sounded comedic coming from the evil self-proclaimed genius. "C-come again?"

"Breakfast, child, breakfast!" He waved his hands around a bit for emphasis. "A genius can only eat TV dinners for so long!! My robots are horrible at cooking. I've been so preoccupied with perfecting their fighting capabilities that household chores like cooking really don't come to them naturally. And of course, I'm a very busy man, what with plotting to destroy your brother and everything."

Roll grimaced and tried to pretend she didn't hear that last sentence. "Are you saying that you want me to cook meals...?"

"_Yes_, yes, yes," Wily grumbled, starting to grow impatient. "In exchange, I'll let Bass keep watching you instead of locking you up in the basement."

Ah, so her hunch wasn't too far off. "That's... um, what would you like me to make?" Wily shrugged impassively, told her just to make something edible, and turned back to his computer.

It felt awkward and unnatural to be cooking for an enemy, but as usual, Roll's polite nature overrode everything else. Her number one objective — mothering people — took a strong grasp over her mind, and for the time being, she was able to forget her discomfort. She absent-mindedly found herself wondering how nutritious TV dinners were (or, were not) as Bass led her to the kitchen.

* * *

When they entered the kitchen, the crisp sound of tapping against the tile reminded Roll that she was still wearing her shoes. "Ah, Bass, do you have any slippers I could borrow?" It was customary to keep shoes in the foyer at the Lights' residence, and Roll suddenly felt very uneasy with her boots on.

Bass grunted, shaking his head 'no', and then after a brief pause, muttered, "You can just wear your socks if you want." He had been especially silent ever since the incident earlier that morning with the other Robot Masters, and Roll wondered if he was mad about something. But she didn't know him well enough yet to know what buttons he had to push, so she didn't bother trying to guess what the problem was.

"Alright, let's see..." After slipping off her shoes, she opened up the large, dirty fridge and glanced over its contents. It wasn't even just the fridge that was dirty, either. The whole kitchen was a disaster. Dishes stacked high like buildings, trash cans overflowing, all sorts of assorted dust and grime mixed together into questionable substances, coating the cabinets and countertops...

The innards of the fridge were hardly impressive, but enough bare basics were there that Roll felt confident in her ability to scrap together a nice meal. But before she started to take out ingredients, she grabbed a washcloth, soaked it with water and soap, and began scrubbing down the countertops. At the very least, her work surface had to be sanitary.

Bass leaned in the kitchen doorway, watching her every move. Roll felt a little self-conscious with him staring, but tried to distract herself with this new chore. Once she had finished wiping down the surfaces and setting out various ingredients, she sat a pan on the oven and turned a knob.

_Click, click, click...  
_  
She waited, tapping a shoeless foot impatiently, and turned the knob off. Then she turned it again.

_Click, click, click...  
_  
...Nothing happened.

But with the most perfect timing in the world, DWNs 009 through 016 filed into the kitchen at that very moment, all chatting loudly. Bass sulked back into a chair in the corner of the room, clearly not eager to socialize with the older Wily bots.

Roll turned towards the group, surprised, and asked, "What are you guys doing here?"

They all alternated between looking dumbly at each other and looking at the girl. Finally, Quick Man countered, "We could ask the same of you! This is our scheduled time to fill up on energy."

Roll flinched as Metal Man stepped forward with a confident glint in his eyes. Even with his mouth covered, his expressions always seemed to be clearly engraved into his eyes. "Well, well, we meet again so soon. What are you doing, little girl?"

"U-umm, yes..." Out of sheer habit, she looked around for someone to cling to for protection, but of course, all she found was Bass lurking on the other side of the room. Though he did seem to be paying close attention to the conversation, as he had been with the earlier encounter, and she interpreted this as alertness; a readiness to jump into action if need be. Granted, she doubted any of them would waste their energy on attacking a robot that was clearly not a threat, but that didn't make her feel any less nervous. She wrung her small hands together and forced out a shaky answer. "I'm... I'm making breakfast for Doctor Wily."

Once again, the brothers exchanged meaningful looks, and they all seemed to silently nominate Bubble Man to speak next. "That's right, because you're built to cook and clean and stuff, huh? Um..." Roll thought that he looked a little bit nervous as well. "Usually, we all just drink E-Tanks, because it's easiest... and cheapest. Do you think there would be enough food for us to have some, too...?"

Roll smiled. His more humble approach was a refreshing change from all the irritable, demanding inhabitants of Wily's lair. "Well, of course! I can make enough for all of you. Just... don't tell anyone else."

A few of them chuckled and nodded understandingly. It'd take a few fridges of food to feed all of the Wily bots.

"Oh, but, I was having some trouble with stove... the fire won't come on. Do any of you know how I can fix it...?"

Heat Man looked up suddenly, as if she had just shouted his name. He wore a pleasant smile and strode over to the oven. He snapped his fingers together, and a small, red flame burst into light, dancing daintily between his index finger and thumb. Leaning forward on the tips of his toes (he was barely tall enough to see the stove top), Heat touched the ignitor and the flame leaped over obediently. He then placed the pan back in its spot.

Roll clapped her hands together as if she had just witnessed a magic trick. "Ahh, thank you very much! I-if you all don't mind waiting a little while, I'm going to get started now, okay?"

Heat grinned proudly, clearly pleased to be of good use, and returned to his cluster of brothers. The group of eight joined Bass at the table in the corner of the room, which, of course, made him uncomfortable, so he retreated to his spot in the doorway. Roll looked briefly over her shoulder at him and caught a glimpse of a sour expression. Whether it was irritation at the presence of his older siblings or otherwise, she wasn't sure, but she felt obliged to make some sort of effort to ease his bad mood.

"Bass, would you like some food, too?" she offered kindly, sounding very much like a parent trying to console a pouting child.

He stared coldly at the ground and shrugged. Roll sighed and decided to take this as a 'yes'. She felt some irritation at her inability to read his emotions more fluently. Sure, he was mostly a stranger, so it made sense, but seeing him brooding on the outskirts of the kitchen reminded her of Rock flittering about, helping her clean dishes, or mixing batter, or whatever he could do with his limited kitchen knowledge to help his dear little sister. These recollections hit her abruptly, and she felt a wave of homesickness wash over her. There was little doubt in her mind that, when he realized she was gone, Rock would have much trouble saving her from Wily's clutches like he had done in the past, but...

And then suddenly the scene began to play itself in her mind. Alarms wailing. Robots running to their posts, preparing for battle. Wily yelling commands. And then a wall crashes down. Their arch nemesis, Mega Man has arrived at the scene! Roll should be happy. She should run to him, and embrace him, and tell him how lonely she was with him absent all week. But between them stands a dark barrier. Bass, with his cocky, proud smirk, points a blaster at Mega Man, and they engage in battle. And all the meanwhile, Roll is left on the sidelines, finding that she's worried about both of the contestants...

Lost in these unwanted fantasies, Roll accidentally slipped with her grip on the pan handle and burned her left hand. She hissed loudly in pain and reeled her hand back towards her chest, making a dash for the sink to allay the stinging sensation. She knew that everyone was looking at her, startled by her sudden vocalization — she could feel their stares on the back of her head — but she was too busy juggling between drying her hands and trying to save the abandoned piece of toast from burning.

Flash Man verbalized hesitantly, "Are you alright, um... Roll?" He stumbled awkwardly over her name. Most of the Wily bots were used to just referring to her as "Mega Man's sister."

"I'm... okay, it's just a little burn," Roll replied, trying to downplay how much it actually hurt. Being around so many hardened fighters, she felt almost embarrassed to ask for any kind of treatment, but luckily, she didn't have to.

"You should keep running your hand under cold water. I'll take care of this until you're done," Bass gruffly commanded, taking an unwieldy grasp of the pan. Roll attempted to fight away the amusement she found in such a dark, serious figure as Bass cooking eggs and toast. It just made for an amusing picture.

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. "Do you know how to...?"

He shrugged indifferently. "I've been watching you this whole time, it doesn't look so hard... I bet even Crash could do it..."

Crash exclaimed indignantly, but said nothing. There were some things that a robot with drills for hands simply could not do, so he had no counter for Bass's underhanded insult.

Roll smiled, partly out of sympathy for poor Crash, partly out of that lingering amusement over Bass holding a frying pan, and partly out of gratitude. "Okay. Thank you." She turned back to the sink and tried not to flinch visibly when the cold water met with her injury.

"I'm not doing you a favor or anything..." Bass murmured quietly. Roll almost didn't even hear it over the running water. She opted to say nothing; she wasn't even entirely certain that the statement was directed at her.

* * *

_Closing comments:  
I wanted to be able to fit the entire breakfast scene into this chapter, but it's getting a little bit long for my tastes, so I decided to stop here. But, the next update will probably be more prompt.  
After I referred to the MM2 Robot Masters as Bass's "older siblings", it occurred to me: even though she and Rock are made to look like children, Roll is technically older than Bass, isn't she? Creation-wise, anyhow. This bothers me immensely for some reason... Hmm._


	4. Envy

_Opening comments:  
This time, we're mostly just wrapping up the kitchen scene from the last chapter. I thought of a wonderful wrench to throw into the plot the other day, and I'm eager to hurry up and get to that part. :)_

* * *

With everyone gathered around the table, Roll finally had an opportunity to observe each individual Robot Master more closely as they munched away happily at what was probably their first real, decent meal in ages. (Wily had already been delivered his portion, and Roll took his voracious mouthfuls as a 'thank you'.)

Metal Man, she had seen more than enough of for one day, though she did take a minute to note that he had removed his mask, revealing the lower half of his face. He has a strong, masculine jaw line with which he tore through his meal like a starved vulture.

Air Man ate more slowly, having trouble trying to get his fork past his fan and into his... mouth, if it could be called that. His upper body was large and bulky, and pretty much every move he made looked difficult and awkward. It was a wonder that he made such a formidable fighter.

Bubble Man also had a face mask removed. In drastic contrast to Metal, he carefully kept his elbows off the table, and seemed to put meticulous thought into eat bite he took. He almost looked suspicious of his fork, as though it would jump out of his hand to do harm at any moment. His eyes were calm and relaxed, and almost gave the effect of perpetual sadness.

Quick Man, in line with his name, was already nearing the completion of his meal. Roll wondered if he was even chewing. But as spastic and speedy his movements were, they were also very controlled. Rather than rushing, it looked more like a video in fast-forward. He was bright and alert, as though anticipating some kind of spontaneous marathon.

Flash Man seemed to be the most normal of the group. He simply ate and enjoyed, and he was the first one to remember to thank Roll for the meal (which was followed by a hurried chorus of thank you's from the rest, who didn't want to look ungrateful). His most noteworthy feature was his height. Roll estimated that he was about six feet or so tall.

Heat Man, on the other hand, was comedically short. His face was right at eye level with the table, and after a minute of struggling to see what his fork was stabbing, Roll found some old phone books to serve him as a booster seat (trying not to giggle at how cute his futile efforts were all the while).

Wood Man rivaled Air in bulkiness, but he at least had no trouble finding his mouth. He regarded his paper napkin with a strange expression, but otherwise did nothing out of the ordinary.

Sitting next to (and almost hiding behind) Wood Man was Crash Man. Roll watched him the most curiously. For a while, he just kept glancing around the table nervously. When he caught Roll watching, he quickly broke the eye contact and wrenched his eyes down to his plate. He lifted his 'hands' slowly and seemed to be considering his next course of action. After a few moments of idly fumbling to pick up a utensil, he opted to just use his drills as a fork. Stabbing his bacon and toast was mostly successful, but the eggs were only further scrambled, and he hadn't even bothered looking at his glass of orange juice yet.

The minutes ticked by painfully, and he continued to struggle with his meal. Roll could tell he was getting frustrated, and she felt bad for him, so she slid back her chair and walked around the table to stand next to him. Suddenly, everyone's attention was torn away from their food and fixed upon her. (Bass, who had not been particularly interested in joining the meal but took a small portion after Roll's desperate pleading, was trying _very_ hard not to look as curious as all the other robots.)

"Can I help you?" she chirped courteously, motioning towards his plate. Crash looked up at her shyly, his face mostly obscured by his visor (but she could still see that his cheeks were red). He was very aware of his brothers' intense stares and seemed almost ashamed, but in the end, Crash gave up with a defeated nod.

Roll dragged an unoccupied chair over to the left of Crash's, and sat down. She then picked up the fork, scooped up some of the pummeled eggs, and held it up to Crash's mouth. Whether she said it intentionally or out of some kind of internal motherly habit, no one was sure, but she said it. "Say 'ahhh'!"

And just about everyone's jaws (or at least, those who had jaws) dropped. At that point, no one would have been surprised if she had started calling his fork a 'choo-choo train'. To their relief, she didn't, but stiff tension took a firm grasp over the room as everyone tried to go back to eating and not stare _too_ much.

Crash's shame gradually dissipated, and he almost appeared to be enjoying the special treatment now. Roll just tried to look oblivious to the uneasy atmosphere.

* * *

After what felt like a long time, breakfast was over.

"Was it good?" Roll asked while she was cleaning dishes.

Everyone (except Bass, who remained at the table, waiting for Roll to finish) cheered "yes!" or some similar equivalent. Someone bravely added, "Except for the parts that Bass cooked", but there were so many of them talking at once that Bass couldn't figure out which one he was supposed to glare at.

With that, they all left, either to their respective rooms or to train more, leaving Bass and Roll alone again. The blonde wondered, as she scrubbed plates, if he would bother to comment on the previous happenings, but when he said nothing, she felt the need to fill the dead space with chitchat. "Umm, thanks again for helping me cook, Bass. I hope you enjoyed the food."

Bass shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Yeah." Roll was unsure which part was 'yeah', but didn't ask him to elaborate. He paused for a moment before continuing, "How bad did you burn yourself?"

"Huh? Umm... not bad. I kind of made too big of a deal over it, to be honest, but it just surprised me... it's pretty superficial, though. Just a quick dermal repair." The question confused Roll. Why should he care?

"Ah."

Bass certainly didn't waste words.

Roll wished he'd waste at least a few more, though.


	5. Care

_Opening comments:  
Another long delay. My apologies! I whipped up a short chapter because it is Christmas Eve and I felt obligated to upload something on this special day. Perhaps I will try to pull together a Christmas themed ficlet as well, or something..._

* * *

It was only Roll's third day living at Wily's hideout, but she already felt very accustomed to this routine. Get up, wade through the crowds of robots, cook Wily breakfast, watch Bass train, cook lunch, more training, cook dinner, and then free time to rest and do whatever. Roll ended up quite grateful for her chores; it was the one thing that retained some semblance of her life back at home. She was disappointed when she had finally finished her side project of cleaning the kitchen, and wondered if it would seem too weird to ask for another room to clean.

Roll did not like to even try imagining what Bass's daily schedule had been prior to her arrival. It seemed like training and practice fighting with the others was all he did. This also explained his horrible conversational skills; he became the most verbal on the battlefield, and even then, it was just taunts and bragging, like "Is that really all you've got?!" and "Hah, just as weak as ever!"

Watching Bass fight wasn't _too_ boring, though. He had a certain graceful, well planned way of executing his moves. He was also somewhat of a showoff, so his matches were never predictable; Roll never knew for sure what he might try next. But it was also a painful reminder to her of Rock. Rock trained sometimes (though not nearly as obsessively as Bass), and he would always talk about how he didn't want to hurt anyone, but sometimes, fighting was the only way to keep his loved ones out of harm's way. Roll couldn't help but contrast this selfless way of thinking against Bass's power hunger. It put her off a little bit, and made her almost resent watching Bass train.

The training room was more like a huge, empty basketball court. The flooring was hard and smooth (though it was decorated with various scratches, skids, and dents, as were the walls). Every stomp, crash, and blast echoed noisily.

Roll's mind began to wander away, no longer interested in watching Bass use Star Man for a punching bag (again). Days with Rock seemed so distant, almost like a past life that she had long since left behind. Roll ached to see her brother's calm smile. She wanted to feel his strong, but gentle arms pull her into a hug. She was aware of how dependent on Rock she was, and she knew it wasn't exactly a healthy thing to rely on him for such a large portion of her emotional stability, but she felt she just couldn't help it. He was her Rock.

She recalled the day Dr. Light and Rock had left for the convention. Both were clad in new, well ironed (of course, Roll had done the ironing) suits. Light, ever the doting parent, quickly went over — for the third time — a long list of precautions for his daughter to take in his absence. Roll had chuckled and reassured him that she'd be fine. (She laughed bitterly at this recollection now. "Just look at where I ended up", she sighed to herself.) Rock waved, a smile both eager and sad gracing his lips. Rush barked, already in the backseat of the car and ready to go. They left, leaving Roll on the porch, waving and bidding them a safe trip.

The flashback ended, and Roll suddenly realized that her hands were clenched tightly into fists. She wanted desperately to think positive, to wait patiently for her rescue, but she felt like a burden. _I can't even last more than a few hours home alone without getting kidnapped. How pathetic._

Apparently, she had been lost in thought for a while; she looked up and saw Bass approaching.

"Ah, hello. Are you done fighting for now?" she asked.

Bass nodded breathlessly, his chest heaving with each inhale and exhale. "Yeah." He then paused, maybe trying to think of a response, or simply trying to catch his breath. "Is... something wrong." His voice tapered off at the end, and it didn't even sound like a question.

"Huh?" Roll blinked and realized that her hands were still fists, and her eyebrows were drawn together into what must have looked like a scowl. She quickly relaxed her hands and threw on a neutral expression. "I'm... okay."

He looked more directly at her, which startled Roll. Bass usually looked at the floor, or at very best, the air next to her, whenever they were talking. "Are you?"

"I... just miss Rock, I guess."

Bass flinched slightly at the mention of his sworn rival, but maintained his even tone. "Ah... I see."

Though her previous attempts had been in vain, Roll looked up at her captor to search for some kind of expression. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or her imagination, but she fancied that his eyes were shadowed with a hint of sympathy. Of course, as soon as they made eye contact, he turned away, but she had caught him. No matter how she looked at it, in asking if she was okay, Bass was being nice. And she had caught him. Of course, Roll rightfully still had some reservations about Bass's true nature. Maybe it was to his advantage for her to enjoy her stay here. Maybe he thought she'd be more obedient and easier to keep an eye on if he didn't have to worry about her trying to escape (though they both knew it would be pretty impossible for her to get away on her own). But on the other hand, maybe she was breaking through his emotional shield, ever so slightly. She wanted to believe that deep down, he had feelings other than those of pride, greed, and hate. Like her brother, Roll wanted to see the good in others. After all, life was a lot more dreary if you couldn't trust anybody.

Now distracted by these new thoughts, Roll found a genuine smile make its way onto her face. "I'm okay," she reiterated, shattering the thin layer of silence that had formed between them. "Really. So what are you doing next?"

"Ahh... Wily has been doing some minor repairs and upgrades to Treble, so I'd like to go check on him." Ah, Roll had almost forgotten all about Bass's trusty canine companion. For some reason, though, Treble was usually strangely nice to her, despite the fact that she was their enemy's sister. So visiting with the mechanic wolf sounded like a nice change of pace.


	6. Confusion

_Opening comments:  
Upon receiving complaints over the length of the previous chapter, I attempted to write something longer this time as an apology. It's difficult for me to find the time or energy to write with work and what not, hence the long waits in between chapters... I am sorry for this as well. It is not a matter of losing interest or anything like that._

However, thank you immensely for all of the positive feedback! It makes me so happy! I would be so happy if you continue to read, enjoy, and review.

I hope I did not get too carried away with this chapter...

* * *

Wily's workshop was deep underground; it took a couple of long flights of stairs to get to it. Bass explained that Wily preferred to work in solitude, and the distance was also something of a means of security. The dark room was illuminated solely by large, bright computer monitors. Wily was currently occupying one of the computers, busily typing some kind of code. He barely lifted his head to look at Bass and Roll, simply jabbing his thumb towards a hallway. "Treble's done. He's back there."

The two followed the hall into a room filled with robots in different states of completion; some were barely even entire skeletons, and some looked nearly finished. Bass scowled at the sight, muttering something about "more useless junk robots", but kept on wading through the room, concentrating on finding Treble. Roll just flitted behind him, not too interested in the countless piles of metal.

Finally, they found Treble, laying patiently on the concrete ground, connected to a few random wires. At the sound of his master, his ears perked up and his tail began to wag. Bass petted his mechanical mutt gruffly but affectionately. "How are you doing, Treble?" he asked. Treble replied with a few low grumbles and barks. "Ah, yeah? So is it all right for me to unplug you, then?" The wolf nodded, so Bass removed the cables. Apparently glad to at last have free range, Treble circled about a few times and then trotted over to Roll.

"Hello, Treble, remember me?" Roll greeted cordially, kneeling down to hug and stroke him. Treble growled happily; apparently he had remembered her. After she stood up, he continued to rub his head against her legs and bark.

"Heehee," Roll giggled, "he sure is friendly."

Bass stared at the two blankly, and after a small pause, replied, "He's usually not friendly with anyone but me."

Roll looked surprised. "Really? He must just like me for some reason, then, I guess... He was nice the last time I saw him, too."

'Last time'? Bass racked his mind for a 'last time'. He had never really interacted to Roll prior to this kidnapping scheme, outside of when he teamed up with Mega Man against King... Ah, that battle against King? He had forgotten all about that time. Auto had given him a communicator, though Bass remembered saying at the time he didn't need it. Auto insisted for him to use it in case he got stuck. Sure enough, he got lost in the desert. When he hesitantly turned on the communicator, Roll's small voice chirped from the other end, "Do you need some help?"

That's right... and she had given him directions. As for Treble, he did recall leaving him with Light and Roll for repairs once. They did a pretty decent job, too.

The memories surprised him for some reason. Bass was usually so focused on fighting that he rarely paused to consider any distractions. Several flashes of instances where Roll worked patiently on her side of their calls to find maps, or search for an opening, or look for a place for him to rest... And even unnecessary but still helpful things like telling him to be careful, or do his best...

Granted, he knew she offered all the same services to her brother as well, but even still, Bass suddenly felt a prick of guilt; and it was a very foreign and unwanted sensation.

Luckily, Roll had been too preoccupied with talking to Treble to notice that Bass had slipped into somewhat of a reverie. He snapped his head up and commanded gently, "Let's... go back upstairs. The old man will probably want dinner soon." Roll and Treble compliantly followed Bass, both of them used to trailing behind him at this point.

* * *

Having delivered a completed meal to Wily, Roll approached Bass with an expectant expression, wondering what their next task would be. She assumed they would head for the training room, but to her surprise, the group returned to his room. It wasn't quite late enough to go to sleep yet, so the girl sat down on the floor and waited to see what would happen.

Bass left without explanation, closing Roll and Treble in. He returned only a minute later, with a small pillow and ragged blanket in his hands. Unexpectedly, he tossed the items at Roll, and she clumsily scrambled to catch them. She stared at him, her big eyes clearly asking "?", so he replied to her wordless question, "Since you refuse to sleep on my bed, that's the least I can do for you."

Roll's wide-eyed gaze shifted back and forth between Bass and the things in her hands. The pillow case was soft and clean, and though clearly old and used, the blanket smelled fresh and clean as well. She wondered if he had arranged to get them for her or if they just happened to be lying around somewhere... but she didn't bother to ask, and instead smiled daintily at the tall boy. "Thank you very much!" she beamed, grateful for this small act of kindness.

Bass blinked. Being thanked felt... strange. He wasn't used to it, and receiving it from Mega Man's sister of all people seemed weird. But it wasn't an altogether unpleasant feeling... In fact, he even thought to himself for a brief moment that maybe it was enjoyable. But he quickly and stubbornly shooed away such ridiculous ideas. He didn't really care, he told himself. It was just beneficial for her to be well-rested so that she performed her chores quicker, he told himself. Bass went on fibbing to himself as he brusquely told the girl in question, "Go to sleep early tonight."

She obeyed without objection, and quickly fell asleep with Treble curled up by her side. Bass fought away the foolish notion he had to adjust her blanket and decided to go to bed early as well.

* * *

Hours later, Bass' eyes were still open, and he hissed a swear to himself. Why couldn't he sleep?! His mind was so mixed and muddled, he could barely even distinguish his own thoughts. For the first time in his life, Bass felt internal conflict. But why? He had always had his goals, and he did what he saw fit to accomplish these goals. He would never let anyone — not Wily, not his idiotic 'brothers', and definitely not a certain pesky blue bot — stand in his way. Bass did what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted. This self-serving way of living had always been effective for him. Aside from Mega Man being a constant thorn in his side, Bass went about his business in relative ease. So what on earth could possibly be the cause of such disharmonized feelings?

Bass always trained in the evening, but today, he just... didn't feel like it. He had wished at the beginning that someone else could be responsible for Roll in his place, but today... he took amusement in her desperate attempts at conversation. He wanted to deal with everyone as impersonal and offhandedly as possible, and yet today...

He swore again, this time more loudly. He realized the error he had made as the small robot on the floor stirred and propped herself up, but when she turned to face him, her eyes were wide open and she looked as though she had been alert for a while now. "Bass, are you okay?" she asked, blinking curiously. Though the room was dark, he could see her face pretty clearly in the scattered moonlight streaming in from his window.

Grateful that she, on the other hand, could probably barely see him, he muttered embarrassedly, "Yeah, I'm fine. ...Did I wake you up?"

She shook her head, and her hair bobbed back and forth with the gesture. It occurred to Bass that her hair was not up in its usual ponytail. She looked somehow older with it hanging down and framing her face. "No, don't worry. I've actually been awake for a long time. It's just so hard for me to sleep here... and I'm starting to feel the effects of energy-deprivation. I don't feel well." She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her small hands. "Even energy tanks don't seem to be doing the trick anymore."

"Hm," Bass mumbled, considering this dilemma. He had worried about this before, and he hoped that the pillow and blanket would solve the problem, but that didn't seem to be any help in the end. Then suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. "Ah, you know... do you have a USB port?" Roll nodded, though wore a confused expression. "Well, Wily has this cord for transferring information between those other idiots... I might be able to transfer energy to you? At least enough to last until tomorrow. I'll see if I can find better sleeping accommodations for you in the morning."

Roll stared at him with those big eyes again. "I don't want to be a bother...? Please don't go to unnecessary troubles for my sake..."

Bass stared back with narrow eyes. Why couldn't she just have accepted the offer? Now he had to justify it... "Well... we can't have you shutting down or anything. Wily wants you functioning so that you can do work." Initially, he felt satisfied that this seemed logical enough of an explanation, but when he saw how obviously disappointed Roll, he felt that horrible prick of guilt once more. "I mean... ah..."

Internal conflict. Here it was. He didn't want to be doting over Mega Moron's weak little sister... but he didn't want to make her frown like that, either. But why should it matter to him? It shouldn't, right? She was a temporary chore for him, and nothing more. The blue boy would be here any day for her, and then Bass would blow him to bits and that would be the end of it. Roll would probably go home with Light, and... He swore at himself once more for thinking it, but he wondered, would she cry? Of course she would cry. What a stupid question. She was Mega Man's sister, after all. But really, why should he care?

Bass shook his head, as if physically ridding his mind of such thoughts, and huffed with stubborn determination. "Well, get up already, I have to get some sleep too, you know." He stood up and glared down at the Light bot with what he hoped looked like an impatient expression. It had the intended effect; she winced and clambered up onto her feet. But somehow, he felt sorely dissatisfied.

Somehow, he did not like her regarding him with such fear.

* * *

_Closing comments:  
Ick, I had such struggles with this. I am torn, because I am unsure how the robots' sleeping works? I think I decided that they are programmed to sleep, just for a semblance to humans, though they can plug themselves into an outlet like an iPod in addition/as an alternative. Although maybe that takes more time. And Roll does not have her cord with her? E Tanks probably work something like coffee, where it refills them and gives them a temporary charge. Food is probably not as efficient, though they are capable of consuming it._

That's what I decided. I hope it does not sound too far-fetched.

I also apologize for Bass in this chapter... At some point, I realized, "Oh dear, he is becoming too soft too quickly", so he is going back to being a jerk for a while maybe. Ha ha ha.


	7. Stockholm Syndrome

_Opening comments:  
I wrote more than usual this time!_

As always, I thank you warmly for the reviews!

* * *

By the time they were down the stairs and in Wily's workshop again, Roll looked ready to pass out. Without a command or even so much as a word from his master, Treble scooped the girl onto his back. She received the gesture with surprise and exhausted gratitude. Bass tried to regard the two with as little interest as possible, as he looked through a box full of cords and wires.

After a few minutes of digging and untangling, he pulled out a thick, black cord with plugs on either side. Roll, too tired to lift her head, did not notice that he had found their desired object, so he purposely cleared his throat. She groggily looked up at him like a child who had just been awaken from a nap and slid off Treble's back to approach Bass' side.

"Where's your port?" Bass asked, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"My back," Roll replied, punctuating with a yawn. She took one end of the cord and reached over, snaking down the back of her dress, looking for said port. After a moment of struggling and stretching, she switched hands, as if the other arm might be more flexible, and repeated this procedure. The small bot grunted, casting Bass a half-lidded and defeated look.

He sighed and held out an impatient hand. "Give it here." She complied. Bass took the item and circled around behind Roll, pushing her sandy hair over her shoulder. Undoing the two buttons on her dress, he parted the fabric enough so that her port was visible... along with the upper half of her small back.

For reasons unknown, Bass found himself biting his bottom lip.

He swore, his current favorite pastime, and snapped the cord none too gracefully in place. Roll looked back in mild alarm, but was apparently too tired to ask any questions. Bass proceeded to plug the other end into his own back; his port was higher and much more easily accessible. From there, he simply sat (and Roll eagerly followed his example) and waited.

"Did you accept the connection?"

"Yes," Roll confirmed with a nod, turning to face him. "I can feel my energy levels rising already." She added as an afterthought, "How long will this take?"

"We're not filling all the way, so I'd say about ten minutes should be sufficient," Bass replied gruffly, apparently not too enthusiastic about sitting on the floor, doing nothing. Treble laid down by his side, looking quite a bit more patient and relaxed than his master.

Roll fidgeted with her hands, switched back and forth between sitting on her ankles to sitting Indian style, and messed with her bangs. Exhaustion seemed to be gradating into anxiety. Finally, she gathered the courage to lift her eyes to Bass' and forced a faint smile. "Um... thank you. Even if you're just... doing your job or whatever... thank you for helping me."

Bass returned eye contact for only a brief second before shifting his gaze aside and donning a very halfhearted scowl. "Hmph," and a miniscule amount of heat in his cheeks were his only responses.

The smaller robot continued talking, though it no longer seemed directed towards him. "You've already helped me out a lot while I've been here... I probably would have been scared and lonely without you around. I know it's probably silly, but... I wish... I wish you didn't have to..."

The sentence was cut off as the sound of footsteps clanging down the metal stairs reverberated throughout the room and thus prematurely ended her monologue. Both heads turned in the direction of the noise and waited anxiously to see who would materialize.

"Whoa! What are you two doing down here?" the intruder exclaimed as he came into view.

Much to Bass' irritation, it was Star Man.

* * *

"Huh? That's strange..."

It was rare for Proto Man to receive messages, and when he did, ninety nine point nine percent of the time, it was Mega Man or Roll, begging him to come home and spend some 'family time' with them. But the IP of the user sending him a message was not familiar. Light was a possibility... but in that case, Proto wasn't interested in answering. Wily could have found his frequency as well, but that was almost equally undesirable. Proto didn't want anything to do with that man anymore.

He debated internally over the possibilities, and finally, he gave up out of curiosity. "Hello?" he asked, turning on his internal mic.

"Proto Man!! Finally!" To Proto's surprise, it was the Lights' robot cat, Tango. "I've been trying to get in contact with someone for _days_!"

"I was probably out of range... I haven't exactly been close to home. What's going on, Tango?" Proto asked, masking his surprise with monotone. He guessed that it was something involving Mega... He probably got into a fight with a robot he couldn't quite handle and needed help or something like that.

"It's Roll!" _Roll?_ "One of those nasty Wily Bots came and snatched her right up!"

"What? What are you talking about? Why can't Mega Man take care of something like that?" It wasn't like Proto wasn't concerned about his little sister, but it seemed illogical to come to him for help when Mega was always more easily accessible.

"He and all the others are out of town and I can't contact them either... I've been trying to call one of you for the last few days! Obviously, I can't do anything, either... I don't have any weapons installed... Me going after her would be like a kitten walking into a pack of wolves... Oh, I'm really worried about her!"

"Alright, I understand. I'll take care of it."

Proto Man cut the connection with a small grunt. He was traveling, as always, and it would be almost a day to get to Wily's from where he was. But it sounded like Mega was even further out of reach, and leaving Roll alone with all of those Wily Bots couldn't be safe... "Better hit the road, then," he sighed to himself.

* * *

"What are _YOU_ doing here?" Bass snapped at Star; the glittery opera enthusiast was far from being one of his favorite 'brothers'.

Roll, attempting to counter Bass' rudeness, tried to greet more cordially, "Hello, Star... Um, I'm having some energy issues, so Bass is... transferring some to fix the problem."

Star placed an index finger over his lips. "Ooh... I see..." But then a sudden, more mischievous expression overcame the feminine robot's features. He batted his thick eyelashes, and Bass unintentionally flinched. "So Bass took Mega Man's sister downstairs into the isolated little lab in the middle of the night for a bit of 'transferring', huh... hmm hmm hmm."

The innuendo was momentarily lost on Roll, but Bass knew of Star's thought process and immediately caught on to the implications. "WHAT the _hell_, you stupid idiot, it's NOT like that," he hissed violently, his face turning red from both embarrassment and anger.

By the time Star had started giggling and babbling about romantic rendezvous and other such nonsense, Roll had finally realized what was going on. "Ah... a-ah?!" She joined Bass in blushing and protesting. "No, no, no! Not at all!! I was just having problems sleeping, so we—"

"Having problems sleeping!" Star exclaimed, bent over with hysterical laughter. The situation was just _too_ ripe for teasing for him to pass up the opportunity. "Oh, my! Bass is keeping dear little Roll up late, is he? Hee hee hee! Naughty, naughty!"

Bass couldn't take it any longer. He jumped to his feet, ready to blast a hole through Star's face, but in his rage, he had forgotten all about being connected to Roll... as well as how short the cord was. Roll yelped and was jerked over by the pull. Both Star's laughter and Bass' murderous intent ceased at the sound.

"Oh dear, are you okay?" Star asked, running over to Roll's side (but cautiously positioning himself behind her, just in case Bass' anger rekindled.) Roll nodded weakly and reached for her back. The cord was firmly in place, but being yanked had hurt. Bass had felt it as well, of course, but his mind was currently too fixated on Roll; and he was used to pain.

He grabbed her wrist to help her up, but in that instance, he suddenly felt as though his hand was too large and heavy. Roll's wrist felt very thin and fragile, and it almost felt dangerous to have his hand clamped around it; like he might break her. Somehow, the idea scared him — and fear was something alien to Bass — so he quickly released her. Roll regarded the strange act with a wrinkled brow, but Star was clambering about so loudly, fretting over her, that her attention was quickly diverted.

"Really, I'm fine, it doesn't hurt too much anymore... it just kind of startled me. Thanks for worrying about me, though," Roll assured Star, forcing a smile. He returned the smile and placed a hand on her head.

"Heh, who knew the Blue Bomber had such a cute little sister, huh, Bass? What a waste, I wish we could keep her around..."

Bass glared at Star with his menacing eyes, hoping that looks would become able to kill. "Why 'n the hell did you come down here in the first place, you sparkling eyesore?" He liked the idea of blaming the incident on Star rather than his own temper.

Star knew better than to waste his time taking offense to Bass' venomous insults, so he simply leaned against Roll. "Crystal said that he saw someone going down here while he was on his way to the kitchen, so I thought I would come inspect." Whether or not he had known in the first place that he'd find Roll and Bass was uncertain, but from the complacent smirk on his face, Bass had a feeling he did. After all, Bass _had_ used him for a punching bag on more than one occasion. Teasing him was probably Star's best means of exacting revenge.

"Hmph, whatever... anyway, that should be enough energy for now. Turn around, Roll." Roll turned, but not before making a pained expression. Bass wondered if it had really hurt her that much... The thought made him so guilty that he unplugged the cord as slowly and gently as someone diffusing a bomb. It was as close to apologizing as the proud bot could get, and knowing Roll, she wouldn't hold it against him anyway. "Come on, let's go now."

Bass left without even bothering to acknowledge Star Man again. Roll and Treble trailed behind him, with only Roll having the manners to bow her head to DWN-037 and bid him a good night.

Once the group was safely out of sight, Star smiled privately to himself. "Hm hm. She's a cute one, she is... Bass, you lucky imbecile."

* * *

Day four of living at Wily's hideout started out predictably. Roll cooked breakfast for Wily (and a few random Robot Masters who happened to be in the kitchen at the time; like the others, they could not resist the curiosity of what eating a decent meal was like), and Bass sparred with a few of his unfortunate brethren. (Star had made the wise choice and refrained from training for the day.) He ended this ritual sooner than usual, feeling just a slight tinge of sleepiness from the previous night's events. With time to spare until Wily's next meal, the two (Treble decided to sleep in for the day) wandered aimlessly down the various corridors, attending to whatever random jobs Bass felt like taking care of. Roll cleaned whatever messes she came across, finding that productivity was an effective distraction from boredom.

After a while, however, they came to a lull in activity, and with nothing to preoccupy them, they were forced to interact directly. It was not so much a matter of one not desiring the other's company, but rather, what would be appropriate for conversation? Roll had been trying ever since her arrival to fish for topics, but since Bass had discouraged conversation the first couple of days, she was shy to try again. Unfortunately, now Bass longed for her to try again, since he was finally warming up to her perky, sociable nature (only a little bit, he told himself). But with her scared of irritating him, and him too proud to take her role, the two ended up sitting in the kitchen, across from each other at the table, twiddling their thumbs in uncomfortable silence.

A few painful minutes ticked by, and finally, Roll caved. Twirling her side bangs in her fingers all the while, she cautiously began, "So, Bass... I was wondering, do you always wear armor?"

Bass stared at her with a mix of relief that there was finally a conversation buffer between them, and confusion at the unexpected question. "What do you mean...?"

"Well, Rock doesn't wear his armor all the time..." she elaborated hesitantly, wondering if mentioning Mega Man was a bad idea. "He takes his helmet off a lot at home, and sometimes he wears T-shirts and jeans and things like that. Can Wily Robots even take off their armor, or is it just a part of you?"

Her companion considered the inquiry for a moment before answering, "Yeah... most them can remove their helmets and armor..." Roll noticed how careful Bass was not to group himself with the DWNs. "I just don't do it much because obviously Wily doesn't give his robots a lot of clothes, and it is just more convenient to be ready to fight at any time. I figure it's generally the same for the others as well."

Roll's expression brightened slightly at his response. Girlish curiosity had once again been sparked, and she couldn't resist asking more questions. "Really? That's so interesting! I wonder what everyone looks like in normal clothes? What about you, what do you look like?"

Bass stiffened at being put on the spot. "Um... I don't know... like, myself without armor I guess?"

"Ahaha! You're so silly." Roll laughed good-naturedly, and the sound was novel and refreshing. Aside from giggling directed towards Treble, or perhaps some nervous tittering, she had not really laughed during her stay at the base. For her to do so for the first time, honestly and openly, was...

Bass didn't know what it was.

Either he had not the proper words at his disposal, or he simply did not wish to use them, but whatever the situation, he liked it.

And then it occurred to him, he had meant to ask her something. "Ah, I just remembered. What were you saying yesterday before that idiot interrupted?"

"Huh?" Roll tilted her head to one side in thought. "What was I saying..."

"You were thanking me or whatever... and said, 'I wish...' something, or something like that... Not that I really care, but I was wondering what you were going to say." Just to prove how disinterested he really was in knowing what Roll wanted to tell him, he stared at the ceiling and leaned casually on the table, hoping to look rather bored.

"'I wish'...? Hmm, what was it..." Roll childishly poked her cheek with her index finger, as though it would be conducive to thought. "Oh! I know! I was... saying..." She paused, her bright and perky expression darkening into a more serious one, adding to the weight of her confession. "That, I wish you didn't have to fight with Ro—... um, 'Mega Man'... Because you seem like, maybe you can actually be a nice person..."

Bass blinked, but offered no other obvious reaction.

"Hah... I'm not a nice person," he stated, his red eyes shifting slowly towards his 'charge'. "I do things out of selfish ambition, and I do things only for myself. I fight Mega Man because I want to be the best. I've no respect for my 'creator' or my 'brothers', and I dare say the only other being in this world I care at all about is Treble."

Roll frowned slightly. She expected such an answer, but not in the way he delivered it; it was quiet and neutral, with a subtle tone of reflection, like someone recalling sins long left behind. It did not sound proud or impassive, attitudes that were more normal coming from him.

Bass paused for effect, perhaps to let this information sink in, then continued. "What you are experiencing, Roll, is called 'Stockholm Syndrome'. It's a psychological phenomenon where a hostage develops feelings of fondness towards their captor. You are mistaking anything I've done 'for' you as 'kindness', and you're trying to impress the idea that there is a 'nice person' somewhere within me."

"...I see..." Roll said, almost whispered, folding her hands together in solemn consideration. After all, what could be said of such a speech? He lived a pretty depraved lifestyle, in her opinion. Living only for himself... Perhaps rather than 'depraved', 'lonely' was a better word for it, she pondered. But what good would telling him that do? He would probably only get angry and defensive. And maybe there was some truth in what he was saying about mistaking his actions for kindness... Maybe Roll was just desperate for affection in this compromised situation. Maybe her mind was projecting more positive light onto her captor than there really was.

So, what should she say to this boy, who was basically telling her that he cared for no one but himself, and especially not her?

Fortunately for her, she never had to think of a response. Loud alarms suddenly blared, startling the two out of their seats, and a robot's voice over the intercom shouted, "Battle positions! Battle positions! Intruder at sector 1-B! All Robot Masters to designated battle positions! Repeat, intruder at 1-B!"

Bass' eyes flashed, his mind processing a million thoughts all at once. He quickly activated his buster, preparing himself for battle, and hastily grabbed Roll's hand. Roll was frozen like a scared rabbit, unsure how to react to all the abrupt noise and action. "Come on!" Bass shouted, snapping her out of her dumbfounded state. "I have to see what's going on but I can't leave you alone here, either!"

Roll numbly allowed Bass to drag her to where ever sector 1-B was, mentally engaged with the horrible realization that she had 'seen' this scenario before.


	8. Touch

_Opening comments:  
Ooh! I am so sorry for taking so long. I had some issues with my computer refusing to start up often, so I have to keep borrowing my friends' computers and such. It crashed a few times while I was working on this and taught me a valuable lesson: save and save often! The problem has (hopefully) been fixed though! Let's hope it stays that way._

Anyway, at this point, I do believe we are around halfway through the story. I hope you are all still enjoying. :)

I warn you now, as I do not want to offend any of my readers, the language becomes slightly... gritty... in this chapter... Still nothing surpassing that of which I have heard in PG movies (and actually, I have probably heard much worse slip into PG movies, haha), and it is not excessive, but I thought I would just put a notice to be polite. I do not intend to have this be a regular occurrence.

* * *

At this point, all Roll could do was whisper a prayer. _God, please keep Rock safe... and if possible, prevent him from having to fight Bass._ She found that she had been lead to the large court where Bass trained everyday. It was covered in armies of Robot Masters, posed with their weapons out and ready for combat. Roll's eyes darted about, looking for a boy clad in familiar blue armor, but he could not be found...

Long arms slithered around her and pulled her into a firm grip. She squeaked slightly and craned her head over her shoulder to see who it was. Clown Man. "Sorry, little lady, but it's boss' orders for me to keep an eye on you," he explained without much remorse. Roll instead looked for Bass and caught the tail end of an apologetic expression as he left to wade through the crowds.

A wall crashed and crumbled with a loud explosion, and a cluster of robots tumbled through the new 'doorway'. All of them were engaged in a violent melee. Everyone in the court became loud and excited, like an audience watching a competitive sport, and the tiny female robot had difficulty seeing past the masses, but she managed to catch glimpses of what appeared to be Metal... Hard... Needle... maybe Punk...

...Blues?

For a moment, her breath hitched in her throat as she watched and waited for another peek at the fight, just to confirm that her eyes were not playing tricks.

No... those shades, that bright yellow scarf... There was no mistake. That was Blues in a fist fight with all those Wily Numbers; not Rock. She was understandably confused. It made sense for it not to be Rock... He was not due home for a few more days at least. But why Blues? How did he find her? She wondered if he even knew she was there. Maybe he was just settling his score with Wily...

Roll stopped wondering about such things when she saw Bass cut into the scuffle and send his brethren away. She gathered from their body language that Bass intended to take down her loner sibling by himself. Her desire to get a clearer view of the battle was granted when Clown Man pushed her forward to the front of the masses.

"Hey now, loser!" Clown announced saucily, keeping Roll tight under his grasp. "You might not wanna try anything funny! We've got a card up our sleeve~"

Proto Man broke away from his stare down with Bass to see this card, and even hidden behind those dark glasses, surprise and concern were etched conspicuously into his exposed features. And, though it went unnoticed by the girl who was too focused on her estranged family member, Bass shared Proto's sentiment to a more subtle degree. He mouthed clearly to Clown, 'Hurt her and you're dead,' complete with a pretend cutting gesture across the throat.

Proto initiated the fight by sneaking in a charged blast at his opponent while he was distracted. Bass hissed and swore, shouted something about playing dirty, and rushed in for more direct combat, landing a punch squarely on Proto's jaw. Proto reeled backwards from the force of the blow, but quickly recovered and shot a rapid succession of more blasts. Bass managed to dodge some, but still took damage, and responded with blasts of his own.

The two went on, eliciting more excited cheering and goading from the DWNs. Obviously, everyone was rooting for Bass. Roll only watched with quickly mounting distress at every battle wound both players received.

Bass, as well as he was fighting regardless, seemed distracted. He was more careless about the damage he sustained and sloppier with his aim. Proto, on the other hand, fought at the top of his game and to the extent of his limits; perhaps even with an extra boost from sheer anxiety over Roll's present condition.

The more alert of the two got in a heavy strike from behind and suddenly had Bass pinned to the floor. Both were ragged and heaving, and Proto was ready to end the battle. With only a hint of hesitance, which was dispelled by a glance at his sister, he placed his buster at the center of Bass' chest and closed his eyes...

"STOP!"

Clown had let his guard down, as had the rest of the audience, being that they were too absorbed by the heated battle to remember anything else; and seizing this opportunity, Roll squirmed free of his grasp and ran into the makeshift battlefield. In that moment, all eyes were on the small Light Bot.

"Don't shoot him, Blues!" Roll pleaded. He stared at her numbly, mouth agape, and for the first time, Proto Man looked rather dumbfounded. He mouthed the word 'why' but no sound came out. The girl pressed on, "Please, don't hurt him anymore... I don't want you to get hurt, either... Just... let's get out of here..."

At her suggestion, the crowd booed and yelled, and a few of the bigger robots rushed forward to recapture the 'card up their sleeve'. This startled Bass back into motion and he roughly shoved Proto off his chest, jumping up to dispel the hoard collecting around Roll. But Proto misinterpreted his action, thinking that Bass was assisting his comrades, and through bleary vision, released the remainder of his plasma into one, final shot... out of nothing but concern and ferocious brotherly protection, at what he perceived as a threat to his sibling.

He never expected that shot to miss its intended target and hit said sibling.

The shot exploded. It was huge, deadly; just like he had meant for it to be. He watched in a horrified paralysis, waiting in shock for the smoke to clear. Once it did, he saw that his aim had thankfully been off and took down a few members of the crowd. Gravity Man and Junk Man were being hoisted off to the nearest repair room by undamaged brothers. However... shifting his gaze downwards, he spied Roll laying limply on the ground. From where he was, she looked like nothing but a tangled mess of debris and exposed wires. Had the shot hit her directly, she would probably not even be recognizable at the moment, but still...

He scrambled to his feet and cried hoarsely, "ROLL!"

When she did not respond, he began to run to her side, but collided with a heavy hand. Bass whipped around and, with a sudden burst of strength, threw Proto Man violently onto the ground. "Get out of here, you damn moron! You've done enough!!"

Blues looked at Bass, eyes wild with confusion and a rare display of fear.

"Get OUT!" Bass repeated loudly, pointing a charged buster threateningly in Proto's direction. With no more energy of his own to fight back with, the eldest Light Bot had little choice. Proto slowly turned to leave, but glanced over his shoulder for one last look at his little sister. To his surprise, he saw Bass scooping Roll up carefully into his arms. He felt some relief; it didn't seem she was being treated as poorly as he had thought.

For now, the best plan was to go to the Lights' residence, recharge himself, and wait for the return of Mega Man. The two of them would be a more formidable force against the Wily Numbers if they were to team up. And if anything, Roll appeared to be in responsible hands for the time being.

No amount of planning could shake the sickening guilt he felt over shooting his own sister, though.

* * *

Compared to right now, Bass had been _calm_ at the time of Proto Man's initial invasion. Whatever happened during his traverse from the court to the repair room, it was all an insignificant smudge in his mind by this point. Proto Man, his brothers, and Wily's commands were far from his thoughts. All he could focus on was Roll.

He cautiously laid her on the table and took a moment to really look at the damage.

It was bad, to say the least.

Her entire right arm was barely even an arm anymore... Some crumbling, cracked remains of the upper arm were in tact, but the rest of the arm was exposed wires and metal ligaments. Something crucial in her upper chest had apparently been damaged, as scarlet oil seeped through the cracks and pooled onto the table. The rest of her body appeared to be untouched, but the areas with damage were basically destroyed; and as it was bad enough for her system to do an automatic shut down, Bass was worried.

What could he do, though? His knowledge of repairs was limited to rather superficial injuries, and Wily was probably busy settling the commotion over Proto Man and fixing those who were caught in the crossfire. At the very least, he wanted to be able to stop the 'bleeding'. Not only was it probably a crucial substance, but it was also rather gruesome and beginning to make a mess.

He stretched out a large, clumsy hand to Roll's cheek with the intention of rousing her, but she did not react. The contact reminded him of the previous night, and that instance where the same hand was gripped around her wrist. Bass was simply unaccustomed to tender gestures. These hands were strong, rough, brutal... Made to hit, fight, destroy... His eyes wandered down to Roll's hands. In contrast, they were tiny; like a child's. He doubted that those hands had ever been used for anything but to serve, create, console... He recalled the way she daintily rolled rice into a ball; how she twirled her hair with her fingers when she was bored; those times when she gently stroked Treble's head.

Bass lingered on these thoughts for a few more moments and then abandoned them in favor of a toolbox. If he was going to patch up that oil leak, he had to get to work.

* * *

_Initializing systems..._

WARNING: ARM (R) has sustained critical damage. Usage impaired.  
WARNING: CHEST CAVITY has sustained critical damage.  
WARNING: CRANIUM has sustained mild damage. Usage may be impaired. Initializing damage analysis. Initializing self-repair nano bots.

Systems initialized. Now starting up...  
[Time offline: 5hr37min10sec]  
  
Roll sat up with an overwhelming number of messages scrolling through her mind. They flowed like a rapid current and left her a bit disoriented and dizzy. She reached for her forehead with her right hand and was surprised to see bare metal and dangling wires come into view. Even just bending and extending the arm felt like a slow, laborious process. The girl tried to sigh, and found that that too was painful.

After a moment of experimenting with her breathing, checking to see how deep of an inhale it took to cause pain, Roll rested her palms against the metal table and lifted her eyes to her dim surroundings. The room was dark except for one light on the desk next to her, so the perimeters were black shadows; but within the shadows, a familiar pair of red eyes glowed back at her.

"Bass...?" she asked tentatively, and her voice echoed back at her from the cold, barren walls.

He rose and stepped into the weak, dull glow of the small lamp. "I tried to take care of the most serious damage, but I'm not really an expert on that stuff, so take it easy until tomorrow when Wily can fix you up better. Can you walk?"

Roll was blown away; for Bass to say so much of his own accord was amazing. Not only that, but he almost seemed... Well, she was hesitant to say 'worried' after his tirade about how he didn't care about anyone, but there didn't seem to be any other reasons for why he would go to such lengths to make sure that she was okay, other than genuine concern. After all, to use her as Mega Man bait, she just had to be alive; not necessarily in top condition. She had already tidied the majority of Wily's base into a clean and organized array, so besides everyone having to revert back to TV dinners (and Bass hardly ever ate anyway), she couldn't think of any ulterior motives for the repair.

"Yeah... I think so," Roll finally replied to his question, and swung her legs over the side of the table to stand up; her knees had a different answer, as her joints locked up, and she stumbled forward. Bass reacted just a bit too slowly to catch her, but he was quickly by her side, pulling her up gently this time and momentarily forgetting all about his fear of touching her.

* * *

_Closing comments:_

As I write this, it is 5 AM and I wonder why I am still awake...! However, I just wanted to apologize again for the delay in this update, and for the relatively short duration of this chapter... I got frustrated from having to rewrite it every time my computer gave up on me, ha ha!  
But on another note, my older brother is a wonderful man and bought me a Wii for my birthday a few weeks ago! Of course I immediately purchased Mega Man 9 and 10. :) I like Tornado Man quite a bit (for whatever random reason)... and I am so happy to play Bass and Proto Man in 10! But, I must admit, I am a bit disappointed by the lack of scenes for Bass' game play...

Oh, pardon me, I began to babble. Regardless, thank you all for your continued support! I am very happy to read your feedback.


	9. Attraction

_Opening comments:  
Ah. I am supposed to update this periodically, aren't I... ha, ha.  
To be honest, I simply was not in the mood to write. My inspiration was at last rekindled, though! I offer a sincere apology to those who were eager for an update to come faster._

Since it has been so long, here is a brief overview of the recent occurrences for those who may have forgotten where we are (because I know I did...):  
It's been about four days since Roll was first kidnapped to Wily's base as a lure for Mega Man. Mega, who is currently out of town at a convention with Light, Rush, and Auto, has no clue. Tango sent a distress signal to Proto Man, who broke into the base with the intention of saving Roll, but instead, accidentally shot her. Bass sent Proto away and took Roll to a repair room to fix some of the more immediate damages. And that is where our story left off! Let us continue and hope that Jiko will not take an unreasonable amount of time to update again.

* * *

Bass hurriedly helped Roll hobble across the base to the living quarters. The hallways were overflowing with activity, but everyone was too preoccupied with their tasks to stop and take notice of the two. Most of Bass' brethren were scrambling to repair the damage done by Proto Man, such as broken walls and other critically damaged Robot Masters. For a prototype with a faulty power core, Proto could certainly pack a punch (or in this case, charge a powershot.) Wily was angry about the unexpected security breach, and his irate, gravely voice constantly echoed through overheads, yelling for more reinforcements, or more tools, or things of that nature.

Bass was privately relieved for his old man's incessant commands; with the others busy, they had no time to rile him over helping Mega Man's little sister.

When they had finally reached his room, both slumped down onto the ground as if they had just reached the goal of a hundred yard dash. Treble rose from where he had been napping and anxiously circled Roll, pressing his muzzle against her damaged arm. He could tell something was wrong. Roll allayed his concern with a gentle pat on the head and an equally gentle smile. "It's okay, Treble. I'm fine. I just need a little repair."

"Little?" Bass scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. "Little my ass. If you had stayed with Clown Man like you were SUPPOSED to, you probably wouldn't have gotten into this mess."

Roll was temporarily taken aback by his sudden snarkiness, but smartly rebounded with her own. "Well, it was YOUR 'boss' that had stuck me with that weirdo! You could've just asked me nicely to stay put, instead of letting him put his creepy arms all over me..."

Bass' right eyebrow arched ever so slightly at this statement, but his expression remained hard and unyielding.

The girl continued, "And besides, let's not forget that I'm not here of my own will or anything," but it sounded more like she was reminding herself than Bass. "Blues was here for a good reason, and I wanted to go with him. You guys are the meanies who kidnapped me... That's right, because I want to go home..."

She nodded, as if coming to some profound conclusion on the matter, and her eyes lifted up to meet his and see if they had softened at all. He stared down at her, but his face was difficult to read. Irritation? Confusion? Disinterest? It looked like a funny combination of them all, and they meshed together into a strange and incomprehensible hybrid. "Hff," Bass exhaled, but added no more to the banter. The silence made Roll feel a bit guilty. She'd rather be arguing with him than not talking at all, but there was a certain resolution to the primness of his mouth that indicated she had shut down any further conversation for the time being.

Roll sighed and turned towards Treble, rubbing his head with the one and a half hands she had remaining. "I do appreciate all of your help," she mumbled, just barely audible.

Bass' expression softened at last, but just for a millisecond — two milliseconds, tops — and Roll did not have the privilege of seeing it.

* * *

By the next day, most of the damages caused by Blues had been mended through the efforts of the able Wily Numbers. Bass intended to take Roll in to see Wily, but the old man slept through most of the day. He may have been an evil genius, but that didn't exempt him from elderly exhaustion. The day passed quietly, and everyone in the base seemed to accept it as a day of recovery and lazy relaxation. Despite her initial protests to the offer, Roll spent her time resting in Bass' stiff and uncomfortable bed. Treble laid, large and awkward as he was, at the end by Roll's feet. The gesture reminded her of Rush and gave her a mix of comfort and renewed homesickness.

The day after that, Wily was up, about, and scheming again as usual, so Bass took that as an opportunity to present Roll's injuries to him. When Wily asked why he should bother, Bass countered blankly that she couldn't cook as quickly with the damaged limb, and there were no more questions after that.

"How are you doing?" Bass questioned as Roll, at last, stumbled out of Wily's quarters.

"Good... really good." She tenderly flexed and extended her now-repaired arm. "Wily did a great job." Those were words she never thought would come out of her mouth.

"Yeah?" He caught her arm in a firm but gentle grip, rolling the sleeve up. She watched, surprised, as he carefully examined his father's handiwork. Physical contact — outside of battle, anyway — was something Bass largely avoided. His tepid fingers wandering across her sensitive skin, occasionally applying slight pressure and supposedly checking the integrity of her repair, was beginning to give Roll goose bumps. The girl stared helplessly, and it wasn't until he finally lifted his eyes to her gaze that he realized the discomfort he was causing. Immediately, his hands recoiled, as though he'd just touched a fire. Nothing was said, but the apology was clearly imprinted across his face. "Sorry, just wanted to... make sure he didn't do anything strange."

"Huh? Like what?" she asked, understandably alarmed.

"Not... to worry you or anything. I was just making sure he didn't slip anything fishy in, like a restraint chip, or anything that would give him control over you. He's never done something quite like that, but it was worth making sure."

"Oh... Well, I was awake for the procedure, and I'm pretty sure he didn't do anything weird."

"I see."

Bass was just about to start leading her off to whatever daily ritual he was prepared to engage in, but her next statement effectively froze him.

"Why were you worried about me?"

His breath was temporarily snagged down in his throat. He tried to look anywhere besides her face, but her questioning eyes necessitated contact. Her stance was steadfast with silent determination. Arms rigid, mouth in a tight line. There was nothing demanding or harsh about it; rather, it was like a patient kind of desire, an earnest wish for an honest answer. How should he respond to that? His initial reaction to things like this was always to brush it away and quickly leave it in the dust. But already, he had gazed just a moment too long, left his mouth ajar just a second overtime. Those actions in themselves were enough for the credibility of his supposed disinterest to fall apart, for her to see straight through his ruse like a window.

"I..." He searched desperately for his standard excuses, but never before had his mind been so empty. _'I'm not worried.' 'I could care less.' 'I was just bored.' 'I pitied you a bit.' 'We benefit from you.'_ Any one of those lines would have done the job, would have been sufficient enough of a buffer between him and emotions to let him shatter their extended gaze and walk away. But alas, none of those excuses could find their way to his tongue.

Bass felt like he had been left to drown in a flood of words that he simply could not string into sentences, but to his surprise and relief, Roll extended a metaphorical life jacket to him. "It's okay. Never mind, you don't have to answer." He had not expected to be let off the hook so easily, but he accepted the grace with gratitude.

A few more seconds of silence transpired between the two before DRN-002 advanced forward and enveloped one of SWN-001's large hands in her two small ones. Her face lifted up towards him once more, this time with a soft and almost childish sort of affection. The small, prim mouth curved into a sincere smile. "Thank you for everything, Bass. For taking care of me, and watching over me."

The tension was impossibly thick, the chaos running through his mind incomprehensible and dizzying. In that moment, he felt an irresistible magnetic pull towards that innocent smile. It was ridiculous and confusing, and Bass was pretty certain that any control he had over the situation had been tossed out a window. He leaned down, inching closer to her, and almost felt as though he were not in his own body anymore. He was more like a third entity watching a scene in slow motion.

_You'll hurt her._

The thought abruptly and inconveniently made itself heard among the chaotic buzz, and Bass suddenly regained awareness.

_What am I doing? This is the enemy's sister._

The whole time, Roll had only watched him, periodically blinking her cloudy eyes. What she was expecting or thinking was unclear. It was as though she had sensed his conflict. She was waiting for him to make up his mind. He did, however, feel heat radiating from her face.

Bass finished his downwards motion by pressing his forehead against hers. It was the most platonic gesture he could think of. "You don't belong in a place like this," he murmured quietly. "I regret bringing you."

Her hands moved up to his face.

"...It's okay."


	10. Attachment

Opening comments:_  
Dearie me.  
Please do not tell me when the last time I updated was, I am scared to know.  
Please also forgive me for being gone so long and then only posting such a short chapter… As it turns out, I actually do not have that much plot left._

* * *

"Are you sure you should be doing that?"

With a cocked eyebrow, Bass stared at Roll's back as she fluttered about the kitchen, preparing an elaborate lunch for Wily. Both because she was eager to cook again, and to thank the old man for her repair, she worked with an especially high level of cheery energy. Bass halfway expected a slew of forest animals to pour in and engage her in a musical number.

"Hmm?" she hummed absent-mindedly, arranging a colorful salad and chopping up bacon bits. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Well," Bass rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "You were only just repaired, so are you sure you're alright with doing work again already?"

Roll blinked a couple of times before breaking out in redness. "Huh? I'm fine… Really! Thank you, though…" Her smooth, experienced energy turned into a jittery, nervous sort of rushing as she hastily returned to finishing the meal. Bass wondered what he had said to upset her so much. He felt a little guilty, but decided not to say anymore.

* * *

To Roll's surprise, a few of the Wily Numbers asked her if she was recovering from her injuries all right. She responded eagerly to the thoughtfulness and asked in return if there was anything she could do to help those who were also recovering. Of course, no one had any needs that could really be met by the fragile female bot, but as such gestures of kindness were rare in their hostile environment, they appreciated her solicitousness all the same.

These exchanges widened Roll's awareness of the looming fact that Wily's robots weren't exactly the cold, killing machines she had come to believe they were. She was also beginning to realize how fond of the gang she was growing, and how they were growing fond of her, and how dangerous such a path would be in the long run. She silently repeated her desire to go home like a mantra, constantly reminding herself that she didn't belong here, she never did, and what she was feeling must just be the stockholm syndrome Bass had mentioned.

Treble nuzzled himself against her leg as she followed Bass back to the living quarters, and he was really not helping her convince herself of anything at all. But, naturally, Roll did not have the heart to tell him to stop and instead reached down to pet him. For a brief moment, his warm, metal head felt just like Rush's.

* * *

"Please, I don't need it, and I really don't mind going back to the floor."

"Would you stop being stubborn and just listen to me when I offer you something?"

Treble watched with his pointy, little ears perked upright in curiosity as his master and his master's charge argued back and forth over who was going to be occupying the bed that night.

"You're still recovering," Bass continued in aggravation, "and it's a pain to get the old man to do me any favors, so I don't want to deal with it again or anything!"

"But I'm telling you, I'm perfectly fine; my body has already adapted to the repairs! I don't feel right in taking your space."

"I seriously don't care, just take it already!"

"I don't want it! It's not that much more comfortable than the floor anyway!"

"Ah, geez, why do you have to be such a nuisance!"

Bass huffed and glared at the rosy-faced pest that refused to yield to his dominance. He could hold himself up in battle, command the majority of his older brothers out of the way, and sometimes even exact a bit of control over his own creator, and here was this teeny tiny domestic bot defying him. Absolutely humiliating. He'd been growing too soft lately.

After a few more moments of mutual glaring, he exhaled another huff and tossed himself onto his — admittedly, not that much more comfortable than the floor — bed and said no more to the ungrateful little girl.

He closed his eyes and listened to hear if Roll would join Treble on the floor after all, or cave and give in to his offer. For a long time, there was silence. Then there was the sound of her bare feet padding across the floor, the quiet rustling of her dress fabric, and — this being the part that really surprised him — the creaking and sinking of the edge of his mattress. A defeated sigh escaped the girl's lips as she lowered herself onto her side and folded her arms together. Her back was turned to him, so he wasn't sure if her eyes were closed or not, but he did hear her mumble to herself, "I'm small, and there's enough room if I stay near the edge, right…"

For another long while, Bass just stared at the thin back that he had grown so familiar with, wondering what to make of this situation. True, there was room enough for the both of them to fit comfortably and not encroach upon each other's personal space, but this wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he had offered her his bed. A part of him informed himself that it was not that huge of an issue either way, and that he ought to just close his eyes again and sleep without wasting another thought on the matter. Sleeping quarters were really just a matter of convention, since their energy was regained through a system shut-down, something any healthy Robot Master could do in any position — standing, sitting, in a Yoga pose, what have you — and comfort was not a necessity to this process.

It just felt nicer to let the girl have the bed, though, and _damn_, was he ever getting mushy.

The bed creaked again as Roll shifted her position and rolled over. Bass squeezed his eyes shut and tried to look as convincingly asleep as possible.

"Bass? Are you awake?" she whispered. Bass decided not to answer for the time being.

Even with his eyes closed, he was amazed at how many of Roll's quirky gestures he could pinpoint solely with sound. He heard the moist biting of her bottom lip, something she always did when she was feeling indecisive. Her shallow breaths were typically an indication that she was anxious about something (and in this case, he was guessing it was over whether or not she was trespassing upon claimed territory.) He felt the heat radiating off her body draw near, and the dip in the mattress was a clear giveaway that she had scooted closer. _Why_ she would do such a thing was something far beyond his tactile wits, however.

She whispered again, this time so quietly that it was more like breathing, "You're not gonna wake up and scare me or anything, are you…?" Neither expecting nor receiving a reply, she timidly reached out for Bass's face. The sudden sensation of her small, soft hands against his cheeks was rightfully startling, but Bass held his posture like a professional statue. Was this girl's internal temperature regulation system malfunctioning, or was she just impossibly warm…?

More importantly, what was she even up to? Her hands lingered lightly, with neither an apparent motive nor a readiness to return to their owner's sides. It almost felt like a curious prodding, as if she were checking to see if he were really there. When nothing else happened, she gained a little bit of confidence and felt his face more intently. Her fingertips wandered up his cheekbones, running across his forehead and tracing the violet markings underneath his eyes. Her thumbs rubbed tiny, slow circles into his skin, assessing the texture and making it _really_ damned hard for him to keep quiet. Whatever she was up to, he could not deny that it felt good.

Once she had satisfied her curiosity with that, her hands wandered down his neck (which he had never realized was ticklish until now, and it took a lot of talent to keep silent and still through that), and halted around the borderline of his collarbone. For one thing, he was still in armor and there was nothing novel about the texture of that, and for another, she did not want to wander any longer anyway. Bass risked taking a quick, half-lidded peek at the girl and saw that she had squeezed her eyes shut, hands clenched to her chest as if ashamed of themselves. Even in the dark lighting, he could tell that she was bright red. He basked in her continuously radiating heat, again wondering if this kind of warmth was normal for her or if something was wrong. It was a comfortable temperature, though, so he figured it couldn't be anything bad.

Her eyelids stayed crinkled with how tightly she was closing them, and he could tell that she hadn't shut down just yet. On an idiotic impulse, or perhaps just a desire to move after faking deep sleep for so long, Bass wrapped his awkward arms around the warmth and pulled her against his chest. Her body immediately went rigid, and a surprised squeak escaped her, but she otherwise did nothing against the motion. She was soft and comfortable and fit into the crook of his neck nicely. Her hair had a scentless but still somehow pleasant smell. Her quickened breath and pulsating beat were so deceptively human-like, and for a second Bass felt that if Light could make a robot robot this amazing, then it was no wonder that her dumb brother beat him in battle.

It was stupid and ridiculous and he still wasn't quite sure why he was doing it, but his arms remained around her petite frame, unassuming and gentle and prepared to move at any time should she express resistance. But she never did, and she eventually relaxed in her position. After the tension had completely left her body, she mumbled, "I'm, uhm… I'm sorry… for… I mean, I didn't know you were awa—"

"It's fine," he dismissed gently. "Go to sleep."

He felt her shoulders roll in something akin to a shrug, and nothing else was said after that.

Bass sighed a little bit at himself before shutting down. What was he doing? Her brother would be back for her anytime now, and yet...


End file.
